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Updated: June 2, 2025
And now in the sunshine standing still, how beautiful! a thousand times more beautiful than the humming-bird. Listen, Rima, you are like all beautiful things in the wood flower, and bird, and butterfly, and green leaf, and frond, and little silky-haired monkey high up in the trees. When I look at you I see them all all and more, a thousand times, for I see Rima herself.
"A long thorn might have entered my brain," I said, "from the way it pains. Feel my forehead, Rima; is it very hot and dry?" She did as I asked, touching me lightly with her little cool hand. "No, senor, not hot, but warm and moist," she said. "Thank Heaven for that!" I said. "Poor girl! And you followed me through the wood in all that terrible storm!
But she was not there to answer me, and so after a time I went forth again and seated myself listlessly on the root of an old tree not far from the house. I had sat there a full hour when all at once Rima appeared at my side. Bending forward, she touched my hand, but without glancing at my face; "Come with me," she said, and turning, moved swiftly towards the northern extremity of the forest.
I would urge all who are unacquainted with Dante to read, or rather to study, him at once. They could study no more ennobling teacher. If they are unfamiliar with Italian, they may read the faithful prose version of the "Inferno" by John Carlyle, of the "Purgatorio" and "Paradiso," by A. J. Butler, or the translations by Cary in blank verse, and the Dean of Wells in terza rima.
If the way back to the wood was longer, ten times, and if the great mountains, white with snow on their tops, were between, and the great dark forest, and rivers wider than Orinoco, still I would go alone without fear, because you would come after me, to join me in the wood, to be with me at last and always." "But I should not let you go alone, Rima your lonely days are over now."
He told you did he not? that when he first saw her she was standing before him all in white a dress that was like snow on the mountain-tops when the sun is setting and gives it rose and purple colour. I shall be like that, hidden among the trees, saying: 'Am I different not like Rima?
She opened her eyes wider and looked earnestly into my face. "I must go back alone, Abel," she said. "Before day comes I must leave you. Rest here, with grandfather, for a few days and nights, then follow me." I heard her with astonishment. "It must not be, Rima," I cried.
A Parænæsis to Prince Henry, who dying before it was published, it was afterwards dedicated to King Charles I. He wrote all these Poems in the Ottavo Rima of Tasso, or a Stanza of eight lines, six interwoven, and a Couplet in Base. His Plays and Poems were all printed together in folio, under the title of Recreations with the Muses, 1637, and dedicated to the King.
"Forgive me, dear Rima," I said, dropping my hands again. "I have tried so hard to please you in everything! Touch my face with your hand only that, and I will go to Riolama with you, and obey you in all things." For a while she hesitated, then stepped quickly aside so that I could not see her; but I knew that she had not left me, that she was standing just behind me.
"O mother, mother, listen to me, to Rima, your beloved child!" she began. "All these years I have been wickedly deceived by grandfather Nuflo the old man that found you. Often have I spoken to him of Riolama, where you once were, and your people are, and he denied all knowledge of such a place.
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